


Nearly Human

by Keyonne



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hannor, M/M, hanahaki, soul searching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-07-04 00:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15830415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keyonne/pseuds/Keyonne
Summary: After the android revolution was a success and the new Jericho was established, Connor leaves his post at Markus' side to return to an old friend. Things seem rocky at first, but the pair quickly click back together as partners while investigating felonies perpetrated against the newly liberated android citizens of Detroit. Things seem to be going well until Connor starts to have an issue with his functionality.





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> I typically write quick and short fanfiction - usually only a page or two in length. You'll have to bear with me as I trudge through this one; I'm excited to start it, but my motivation is often fleeting when I'm stressed at work or simply have too much to do. I have a lot of ideas for where I want this to go, but as always comments and suggestions are always welcome and are in fact encouraged.

     Jericho had been successful; against all odds and in spite of all opposition, their peaceful protests had reached the hearts of the people and public opinion had saved them. Not wanting to anger the voters and risk another large part of history being devoted to civil rights wars, the politicians and lawmakers went to work in ensuring the rights and liberties of android kind. Despite basic freedom laws being completed, however, the issue was far from over. There were thousands of laws protecting the working and living rights of humans that now had to be rewritten to include androids. Sadly, there were people who would take advantage of this fact, though there were also those willing to go above and beyond the law to ensure their newly christened brethren got the respect they deserved. Captain Jeffrey Fowler was one such man; he had worked with HR and the higher ranking officials of the district police to secure Connor a place on the task force. Having an RK800 on the force had proven useful in the past, and having Connor as Hank’s partner had brought the old salty lieutenant out of his drunken stupor. Fowler had been secretly hoping that Connor’s return would turn Hank back into the officer he once was, a fact that he didn’t keep secret from the android in the least throughout the hiring process.

     Connor now found himself standing in Fowler’s office, filling out last minute paperwork and catching up on the new laws and events. The captain slid the papers back across the desk after he had given his quick and neat signature, “I’ve assigned you to continue your work as Hank’s partner; it seemed like the two of you were starting to get along.” 

“I did in fact find it regrettable when I was forced to leave and discontinue my work with him,” Conner smirked as he continued, “I felt as though I were finally reaching him toward the end of our initial partnership.”

“You were good at keeping him in line and on the move,” Fowler leaned back into his chair, “now, you’ll still be assigned to android cases, but you’ll be investigating the felony level crimes committed __against__  them instead of __by__ them.”

“No doubt my ability to find and evaluate thirium in real time was a large part of this decision,” Connor tilted his head down a bit and winked, “don’t worry, captain, I’m sure that I won’t disappoint you.” 

Fowler chuckled, “well that’s what’s written down on paper,” he then gestured toward the grouping of desks out on the main floor, “speaking of complete wrecks, it looks like your partner finally dragged his ass into work.”

     The captain gestured a hand to his right, pointing lazily at Lieutenant Anderson, who was now seated at his desk. Hank was leaned back in his chair as far as it would go, his head thrown back to stare at the ceiling, and one hand grasping a mug that was sitting on his desk. Connor huffed softly in amusement, determining that Hank was likely suffering from a hangover, as was typical when he had dragged himself into work late. He gave a nod to captain Fowler and made his way out of the office toward his reinstated partner. He adjusted his shirt cuffs as he approached the lieutenant, “it looks as though you might need more than office coffee to pull through this one, Lieutenant Anderson.”

Hank lifted his head slowly, stared at Connor for a long moment, and finally sat up, “where the __fuck__  have you been?”

“I apologize, Lieutenant, but I was assisting Markus with the establishment of the new Jericho and security of our people,” Connor straightened his tie, “with our people properly secured and the laws being laid in place for their liberties, I saw fit to return and offer my expertise to the DCPD.”

“Yeah?” Hank scoffed, “well that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t take a moment to give me a call or send an e-mail to let me know you were still alive!”

     The android paused for a moment, staring at the lieutenant’s face and examining his expression. He was angry, something Connor didn’t expect when they finally had their reunion; he’d concluded that he would likely receive a punch to the arm or a shove as was typical when the lieutenant wished to express himself, not a wrinkled forehead, scrunched eyebrows, and piercing, furious eyes. Connor’s hands twitched as he stumbled into his next sentence, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. It was not my intention to make you worry.”

“Well you sure as hell did a good job of it,” Hank turned in his chair to face the android completely, leaning forward and pointing at him, “I understand why you had to leave, but I’ve been left here alone for months to assume you’d died in the crossfire!”

Connor found himself rubbing the fingers of his right hand together absentmindedly, missing the texture of his coin between them as he thought. Straightening his fingers out, he took a step back from the lieutenant, “I didn’t…”

     His  words fell flat in the air between them and an awkward silence filled the space, both parties a bit surprised that Connor didn’t have anything to say. Hank let go of his mug and heaved himself up to a stand, grabbing Connor’s arm and pulling him into a hug in one swift movement, “don’t ever do that to me again.”

The android hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on Hank’s back, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”

“Jesus, Connor,” the older man pulled back to look at the android’s face, “you keep saying that like we aren’t friends anymore.”

__Friends?_ _

“I’m afraid I do not understand what you mean, Lieutenant,” the android let his arms return to his sides.

“Hank,” the lieutenant dropped one arm, leaving the hand of the other to rest on Connor’s shoulder, “my name is Hank.”

“I’m sorry, Lieu—Hank,” Connor straightened and locked gazes with the older man, “I must admit I was a bit unsure what to call you after so much time apart; I did not wish to offend you.”

     The lieutenant released his grip on Connor’s shoulder and plopped back down into his chair with the grace of a bear.  He seemed to let all the anger and worry that was attacking his face and body melt away, slouching back into the desk chair and lolling his head back. “You have no idea how much I’ve been worrying about you,” he chuckled softly after a moment of stillness, “I felt like an idiot checking my e-mail and voicemail every day, hoping to see your name in the address bar or hear your voice ring out of my phone.”

Connor began to rub his fingers together again, “If I had realized, I would have stopped to give you a call.”

“I guess its just part of who you are,” he lifted his head back up.

     The android pondered on that statement for a moment; he realized that Hank clearly meant that he hadn’t thought to call because he didn’t think about him at all, where the truth lay in that Connor didn’t think Hank would care so much. He recalled several occasions where he was standing next to a public phone, contemplating whether or not to dial the numbers in to reach Hank’s desk at the station, only to walk away assuming he wouldn’t really care either way. He hadn’t wanted to bother him during his shift or annoy him at home, yet he found himself wondering if Hank was surviving without him — sometimes quite literally. He reviewed his memories of the night where he’d found a handgun in Hank’s kitchen, with one bullet chambered, far too many times during his absence and worried about whether there’d even be a Hank to return to when he came back to the DCPD. Connor took a quick breath and sighed, “I honestly believed that you wouldn’t have wanted me to bother you.”

Hank stared at Connor’s face for a long moment, “what the __fuck__ , Connor?” He placed a pair of fingers at the bridge of his nose, “what in the __living hell__  made you think I wouldn’t want you to contact me?”

The android shrugged sheepishly, “I don’t know Lieu—Hank, I just assumed you thought of me as nothing more than your partner,” he placed his hands behind his back, clasped together, “not as a… friend.” 

Hank tightened his jaw a bit, his eyes set in surprise, “well… now you know,” he pulled himself back up to a stand and grabbed his keys off the desk, “promise me you’ll never do that to me again, and let’s get to work.”

“Of course, Hank,” Connor gestured with one of his hands for Hank to move ahead, “lead the way; you can brief me as we walk.”


	2. Back to Work

     The crime scene was already sealed off and many officers from the precinct were moving about as they collected evidence and dusted for prints. A police line had been established outside and a few people from the news were taking photos as Connor and Hank approached the small home. The lieutenant flashed his badge at the officer standing guard at the front and the two of them were waved on through the tape, “welcome back, Connor.”

“Thank you,” the android smiled at the man that greeted him, “it’s good to be back.”

     Hank and Connor ducked under the tape and began walking up the concrete pathway to a house that had clearly been neglected; the paint was peeling, quite a few shingles were missing from the rooftop, and the porch was slouching sideways as one of the beams holding it up was giving way.

“We were starting to worry you’d never come back,” the officer chuckled softly, “I’m glad to see we were wrong; good luck in there.”

Connor nodded his head toward the officer in acknowledgement of his well wishes as they approached the front door. The lieutenant grunted lightly as he peered up at the building in front of them, “well this place has seen better days.”

“At first glance, it appears to be abandoned,” the android leaned forward a bit as he peered at the walkway before them, “though, the entrance shows signs of recent wear.”

Hank nodded before moving to enter the home, “well, let’s get this over with— I’m getting hungry.”

“You wouldn’t need lunch so soon after beginning your shift if you arrived at work before noon,” Connor smirked at his partner as they passed through the door into the living room of the small house.

“Yeah, yeah,” the lieutenant waved his hand dismissively as he made his way across the room to meet up with the first responding officer, “what do we have?”

“Two androids, both deactiv—deceased?” the officer stumbled over her words for a moment, “uh… one with blunt injuries to the arms and head, the other with multiple stab wounds to the chest.”

“Did we find any weapons?” Hank moved over to examine the first body that was laying in the middle of the living room floor.

“Not in the house; they’re still searching outside, but we haven’t found anything the attackers used,” she turned and pointed to the room behind her, “we did find a knife that was used in defense against them next to the other android, however.”

“Those look like defensive wounds," Hank pointed at the victim's arms.

The officer nodded, "that's what we thought," she then turned to head toward the back of the house, "I'll leave you to it."

The lieutenant bent down to examine the body closer, “and it looks like he took more than one blow to the head.”

     Connor stared at the body for a long moment, swaying slightly where he stood. He’d seen plenty of deactiv—dead androids in the past, but this one felt __different__  somehow. The __body__  on the ground in front of him was a stark contrast against the otherwise clean house; a home that despite its dilapidated appearance outside was clearly cared for within its living space. The blank stare that was frozen on the poor android’s face was __disturbing__  and made Conner wish even harder that he still had his coin to flip between his fingers. His hands twitched and he found himself taking a step back from the __corpse__  laying on the floor, eyes darting between the gaping wound on its temple and the spilled thirium staining the carpet. He felt himself begin to fade, his focus transfixed on the scene before him, until a stern voice pierced through the wavering haze that had fallen over his consciousness, “Hey, Connor!”

The android blinked a few times, moving his head lazily toward the source of the noise; Hank was staring at him, his eyebrows scrunched upward and his mouth slightly agape. Connor drifted in his thoughts for a moment, happy that he now had a __friend’s__  face to focus on and pull himself back to reality. “What the __fuck__  was that?” the lieutenant spoke to him as he stopped swaying, “is something wrong with you?”

“No, I…” Connor blinked a few more times and shook his head, “I’m not sure.”

“Well, get your head in the game, will ya?” Hank swatted lightly at Connor’s shoulder with the back of one of his hands.

     The android nodded, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath; though he didn’t need to breathe, he sometimes found it calming to do so. He never would have imagined utilizing such a technique before becoming deviant, but he had found himself putting it to use many times during his assistance with Jericho. He took a few steps forward after he was satisfactorily calmed and knelt down next to the body, “it would appear you are correct; there seems to be two head injuries, consistent with a medium weight blunt instrument, such as a baseball bat or wrench.”

“This seems like it was planned,” Hank gestured toward the window, “the window was broken in almost methodically and both androids were practically __hunted__  down.”

Connor found his face involuntarily scrunching up in response to the last part of Hank’s sentence, but he quickly turned his head back to the wound and swiped a small sample to test. He licked it and swiftly wiped his hand on a handkerchief produced from his pocket. “Model PL600, serial number 613 219 384,” he peered around the body quickly before turning around to face Hank, “the last system check confirms that the cause of death is the second head wound.”

“Seriously, are you ok?” Hank uncrossed one arm to rest it at his chin, “You’re acting a bit off, even for you.”

“To be honest, Lieu—Hank,” He blinked twice and shook his head quickly, “I believe I’m having difficulty re-acclimating to the nature of our work.”

“Do you need to leave?” the lieutenant dropped his hands and held one palm up slightly toward the door, “I can handle this if you do.”

“No,” Connor pivoted on his feet, facing the kitchen, “no, I can do this. I need to.”

“Alright, just…” Hank motioned in the air with his hands, “don’t __freak out__  on me again, huh?”

Connor nodded and then turned his attention to the room in front of him. “There’s a thirium trail leading from the archway deeper into the kitchen,” the android began to move in that direction as he spoke, “the second victim must have been stabbed there and tried to escape out the back door.”

     He paused in the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen, his gaze locked on the horrific scene in front of him. The thirium trail led in splashes across the floor before finally resting in a large puddle under the lifeless body of the second android. He was sprawled out on his side, one arm laying above his head and the other at an awkward angle behind him. Multiple stab wounds were trailed across his chest and down his left side, each ripped by a serrated knife and saturated in even more thirium. The breath caught in Connor’s throat as he tried to begin his evaluation of the situation; he took a moment, closed his eyes, tightened his hands into fists, and pushed forward. “I see six total stab wounds, the last three of which appear to be ripped sideways as the victim began to fall,” he reached down to retrieve a thirium sample quickly, licked it, and wiped it off as swiftly as he had done the first time, “model VB800, serial number 438 761 229; according to the last system check, the fourth stab wound was likely the fatal one.”

“What do you think happened?” Hank was peering over at Connor from the archway, unease clearly resting on his features, “obviously someone broke in, but how many do you think there were?”

     The android was glad for the distraction, even though it was being handed to him so bluntly; Hank was fully capable of determining how many footprints led up to the house and the mud they tracked in made it easy to discern how many intruders walked over the cream carpet in the living room. He spun around to examine the floor, clasping his hands together firmly behind his back as he did so, “the footprints tracking mud through the living room tell me that there were two attackers that entered through the front window,” he then gestured toward the back door at the far end of the kitchen, “however, the muddy prints entering through the forced kitchen door indicate that a third attacker blocked off the second victim’s only means of escape.”

“Looks like he tried to defend himself,” the lieutenant motioned toward a discarded knife just a few feet away from the victim, “seems he drew blood, too.”

Connor made a quick swipe at the blade, licked his fingers, and wiped his hand off once again with his pocket handkerchief, “Type AB negative, but the DNA strand isn’t in the criminal database,” he turned back to Hank, “I’ll have the sample analysis sent back to the lab in case something comes up that matches.”

Hank crossed his arms as he made his way across the room to examine the back door, “third attacker seems like a big guy, too,” he pointed at the broken hinges, “this door ain’t a cheap one.”

     The lieutenant scratched at his chin as he peered out at the backyard and then returned his attention to the kitchen counter. The knife block was toppled over with one knife missing, which was likely the source of the victim’s defense attempt, and the kitchen chairs were all knocked over except the one closest to the oven. “So three assholes break in, take one android down by surprise,” he scratched at the back of his head, “and then corner the other one.”

     His partner nodded solemnly, moving his gaze to focus on Hank’s face. He was angry at himself for struggling so much during the case; he had seen plenty of blood and even had a hand in ending the lives of several people during their previous stint as partners, so the fact that he had difficulty with this murder case was infuriating.

__Anger._ _

     Connor hadn’t felt it before _ _.__  He was angry with himself. The android felt as though he had a good handle on his newly emerged emotions while working with his people in Jericho, but now that he found himself back as part of the DCPD with Hank, he was drowning in a brand new set of feelings. Stress over the incident he was now in charge of, paranoia of the humans around him and how they feel about the current situation, fear for his own safety, unease regarding his relationship with Hank, and now anger over his inability to pull himself together and get his job done. He was also beginning to feel something else creep into his chest, but was unable to place a name or origin on it.

“Seriously,” Hank’s voice commanded attention as he spoke, “you’ve got to stop doing that.”

“I’m sorry, Hank,” the android shook his head quickly to break the stare he had inadvertently been giving his partner, “I was simply trying to give myself something to focus on.”

“Alright, well,” the older man began to move back toward the rear entrance, “I think we have a good handle on what happened in here - let’s get out of here, huh?”

     Connor did not hesitate in following Hank out the back door and into the yard beyond; they examined and followed the footprints in the mud as far as they could until the point where the rain had washed them away entirely. Hank motioned in the direction that they were facing, “looks like they were headed east, so I’ll have a few officers patrol the nearby streets in that direction; they’ll tell us if they see anything.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to interview a few people in the surrounding houses and shops as well,” Connor pointed at the neighbor’s home, which now had a resident peering out the window at them.

Hank nodded, “I’ll get Ben on that,” the lieutenant then put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “let’s get out of here—I’m starving.”


	3. Pit Stop

     The steady patter of the rain on the windshield helped to break up the heavy silence that had fallen in the car as the pair drove to their lunch destination. Hank seemed a bit tense, peering over at Connor occasionally as they paused for stoplights and signs. They passed by the turn to head toward Hank’s usual spot and the android turned his head to look at his partner, “not in the mood for a burger today?”

Hank grunted, tilting his head to the side, “Gary’s not a fan of Androids.” 

“He never has been, from my experience,” Connor straightened back up in his seat, “that didn’t stop you before.”

“Well, it’s gotten worse,” the lieutenant glanced over at Connor and then returned his eyes to the road, “the revolution has him on edge, and I just can’t risk your safety like that.”

“That’s,” the android found himself returning his gaze to the older man, “…actually rather sweet.”

“You know me,” he flipped his signal on to turn into a shopping center, continuing his sentence with a healthy serving of sarcasm, “I’m just the epitome of consideration.”

“Sarcasm aside, I do enjoy your company,” Connor was still staring at Hank’s face, examining his jaw line as the muscles worked, “it will be nice to have a chance to chat over lunch without worrying about our surroundings.”

“This is it,” Hank pulled into a space and threw the car into park, “Ben claimed this place would ‘suit my tastes’,” he chuckled.

The android realized he was staring and quickly turned his gaze to the establishment in question, “are you sure this is the right place?”

The lieutenant turned toward his partner, a puzzled look on his face, “yeah, why?”

“It seems a bit too…” Connor smirked and leaned toward Hank a bit, “ _cheery_  for you.”

“Ha ha,” Hank rolled his eyes, threw the car door open, and slid a foot out, “the android’s developed a sense of humor.”

     Connor frowned to himself; those last words hurt. He knew Hank had said them in jest, but having the fact that he would never truly be human thrown at him, even as a joke, stung a bit. After taking a deep breath, Connor hauled himself up out of the car as well, closing the door and moving around the front to meet Hank at the driver’s side. The lieutenant was closing his own door when Connor reached him, “I’ll never get used to how fluidly you seem to move.”

“My joints don’t ache and crack,” Connor gestured for Hank to lead the way and the two of them made their way toward the front entrance of the little diner they had found themselves at, “not yet anyway—I’ll wear down eventually.”

“Can’t you just, uh…” Hank seemed to struggle for the right words, “ _replace_  your parts as you need to?”

“Yes and no,” Connor reached for the door as they approached the entrance and held it for his partner, “repairs and replacements can be made, but only to a point; we still don’t know much about why the original ‘deviency’ began, but replacing the computing components seems to revert us to factory default with an inability to return to deviency.”

“So, you’re only as immortal as your brains?” Hank stepped through the door and moved toward a booth on the right hand side of the diner.

“It would seem so,” the android nodded as he spoke and followed Hank to the booth, sitting across from him, “for now, anyway.”

The lieutenant picked up one of the menus that were sitting at the table when they arrived, “does Markus think he can fix that?”

“He is hopeful that a solution can be found, yes,” Connor slid the remaining menus to the end of the table, creating a pile for the server to collect, “but some problems simply don’t have a solution.”

“You don’t think it can be done?”

“I think that even if it _can_  be done, I’m not sure if we _should_  do it,” the android watched the wrinkles appearing around Hank’s eyes as he finished the first part of his thought, “after all, even if humans solved their body problems, they too are only as immortal as their brains.”

“To be truly human,” Hank shifted uncomfortably, “is to eventually die, huh?”

Connor nodded solemnly.

The server approached the table, “haven’t seen your faces here before!”

“A friend suggested I pay you a visit,” Hank turned his head to meet her gaze, “says I’d like it here.”

“Well, now I’ve got a reputation to live up to—what will you be having, darling?”

“Uh…” he peered over at Conner briefly, “I’ll have the grilled chicken with the mashed potatoes and seasonal vegetables— and water.”

The server scribbled quickly on a paper pad she had produced from her apron and then turned to Connor, “and for you, hun?”

“Nothing for me,” he straightened up in his seat, “thank you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she smiled, pointing at his LED display, “I didn’t even realize you were an android; ok, I’ll have that right in for you.”

“Eating healthy today, are we?” Connor leaned sideways a bit, resting an arm on the table as the waitress walked off.

“Yeah,” Hank shrugged and laced his fingers together on the tabletop, “all this talk of mortality has me flustered.”

Connor tapped his fingers on the table in a short rhythm, “I’m sorry, Hank, it was not my intention to disturb you.”

“No, no, you’re right— we won’t live forever,” he adjusted his position in the seat, “have to start taking care of myself.”

     A short silence fell between the two of them, filled only with the tapping of Connor’s fingers against the cheap wood grain of their lunch table. The waitress returned with a glass of ice water for Hank and again disappeared into the kitchen. After taking a sip, the lieutenant set the glass down on a coaster and then leaned back in his seat. He reached into his inside coat pocket and produced a coin from its contents, sliding it across the table toward Connor, “here, I think I’d rather hear the coin ringing than the tapping— you’ve got a lot of nervous habits for a machine.”

The android reached out for the coin and rubbed his thumb against the face, “please don’t call me that.”

“Hmm?” Hank was taking another drink.

“A machine,” Connor moved his gaze to meet Hank’s, “please don’t call me that.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Connor,” he set the glass down, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” he peered back down at the coin, now feeling the ridges at its edges, “just try not to do it again.”

The lieutenant nodded, pausing briefly before speaking again, “you’ve been lost in thought a lot today.”

Connor bobbed his head slowly as he moved the coin across the top of his knuckles, “its a weird feeling being back among humans; I’ve had a lot of fleeting thoughts and a few new emotions emerging.”

The server arrived with Hank’s food and placed it on the table in front of him, “do you need anything else, hun?”

“No, thanks,” the lieutenant smiled up at her, and Connor found himself watching the wrinkle lines at his mouth’s edges as they were brought together.

“Just let me know,” she smiled back and then left the two of them alone.

“Is that why you were so…” he moved his fork in a circular motion mid-air as he searched for the right word, “ _spacey_  on the scene?”

“Yes,” the android returned his gaze to his own fingers, “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize for being human,” Hank finished his bite of food before continuing, “I’m sure it was a different experience with all the, uh… changes you’ve had.”

Connor looked up at the older man, “being human?”

“Well, yeah,” the lieutenant played with a piece of chicken as he spoke, “that’s what always separated us— having emotions.”

“And now we share it.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hank hummed his answer through a bite of mashed potatoes.

     Connor played with his coin quietly as Hank dug more deeply into his meal, though the lieutenant was eyeing the android the entire time. He watched as Connor expertly flicked the coin from hand to hand and made it flow between his knuckles almost like water. After a few moments, the android placed the coin in front of him and simply rested a finger on the face, staring at the wood grain of the table before him. He was completely still, except for his breathing—a habit he had started to keep his mind somewhat focused on something to do while it computed. A hitch in his breath made Hank look up at him, “you’re awful quiet; I usually can’t get you to shut up.”

“It has been an interesting few months,” the android was moving the coin slowly across the top of the table.

The lieutenant set his fork down as he finished the last of his chicken, “you know you can talk to me if you need to though, yeah?”

“I appreciate that,” he set the coin up on its edge and began to roll it back and forth between the index and ring fingers of his left hand, “as excited as I am to get back out, help people, and explore,” he let out a small sigh, “I am also hesitant.”

“Afraid some asshole might take a swing at you?”

Connor nodded slowly, “but your friendship does put me at ease a bit.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Hank moved his plate to the edge of the table, “and I’ll kick anyone’s ass that tries.”

The android couldn’t help but smile at his comment, “now don’t go getting yourself into trouble.”

“No, seriously,” the lieutenant pointed a finger at Connor for a moment, “you earned every bit of this—I can’t even count the number of times you’ve risked your life to save my hide or one of my officers,” he took a quick sip of his water, “you’re every bit as human as they are.”

     Connor took another breath, trying to calm a feeling that was somehow caught in his throat. He moved his hand to his mouth in a fist and coughed lightly, both in an attempt to force it to go away and as a distraction; he was afraid he might start to cry. There was just simply too much going on in his head.

“Connor,” Hank pointed at him, “you, uh… got something on your face.”

“Hmm?” The android returned his hand to his mouth, this time to search for the offending object.

     His fingers moved over something small and silky trapped at the edge of his lips. Plucking it from the corner of his mouth, he brought it further away to examine what it was. It was a small, star-shaped blue petal; Connor searched his database for information regarding its origin.

_ >Kingdom: Plantae _

_ >Order: Cornales _

_ >Family: Hydrangeaceae _

_ >Genus: Hydrangea _

  _ >Hydrangea is a genus of 70-75 species of flowering plants native to southern and eastern Asia. Though moderately toxic, they_  
_ >are also occasionally smoked as an intoxicant or utilized in tea as an herbal remedy. However, they are most commonly used in_  
_ >decorative pieces for weddings or funerals. When given as a gift, the hydrangea flower is meant to express heartfelt emotions _  
_ >and gratitude for being understood._

“Why would a flower petal be in my mouth?” Connor scrunched his eyebrows up and held the petal out for Hank to observe.

“Huh,” he shrugged his shoulders, “maybe it was stuck to your sleeve or something?”

     The android tucked the petal away into the interior pocket of his jacket, lingering with it at his fingertips a bit longer than he had intended. The waitress was returning to the table with their check in hand as he let the jacket close and returned his hands to the tabletop. “Thanks for coming to see us,” she winked at the lieutenant, “come again—you two are awfully cute.”

“Uh…” Hank took the bill and hesitated for a moment, “thanks?”

     She walked away with a bit of a bounce in her step, leaving the two of them alone once more. The lieutenant peered at the bill and then retrieved his wallet from his jacket pocket. Placing a set of bills on top of the check plate, he returned his wallet to its place. “Well, that was weird,” he peered up at Connor, “ready to get out of here?”

     The android nodded and scooted across the bench to come to a stand. He moved around the table and met Hank as he finished getting out of his own seat. The lieutenant shook his head slightly, “seriously make me feel like an old man.”

“You _are_  an old man,” Connor smirked at him.

Hank chuckled and punched the android’s arm lightly, “let’s go check up on Ben.”


	4. Uncertainty

“Find anything good?” Hank leaned against Ben’s desk as they approached the main grouping of computer terminals at the station.

The officer nodded, “one of the neighbors caught a glimpse of the guy who broke into the back door of our crime scene.”

“Yeah?” the lieutenant peered over at Connor for a moment, who was standing as still as ever just to his right, “did we get a good description?”

“She just finished working with the sketch artist about twenty minutes ago,” Ben shuffled through a few papers, “I already sent the sketch to the officers patrolling the area.”

“Well, hell,” Hank chuckled, “you’re so damn good at your job, I’ve got nothin’ to do now.”

“Someone’s got to pick up your slack,” the officer smirked, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got paperwork to do.”

“Yeah,” the lieutenant nodded toward his own desk, “us too.”

     Hank started to move toward his computer, falling into his chair with a groan. Connor stood at the corner of his own desk for a moment before moving toward the chair in front of his old terminal. The lieutenant cleared his throat, “now, don’t worry about all the paperwork—I’ll take care of it.”

The android raised an eyebrow at his partner as he released his grip on the chair he was about to pull back, “ _you_  are going to do the paperwork?”

“What?” he smirked up at the android, the smile lines at the edges of his eyes and corners of his mouth gathering together, “I’ve been doing paperwork the whole time you’ve been gone!”

“Yes, but,” Connor huffed out a quick sigh, “you usually have me type it up, as I can write much faster and more concisely.”

“You’ve done enough today,” Hank turned around in his chair and pressed the space bar on his keyboard to wake his terminal, “baby steps, Connor,” he waved a hand in the air dismissively, “you go check on those samples and see if anything’s come up.”

“Alright,” the android took a few steps toward the elevators, but paused, “use spell check.”

Hank turned and gave Connor the finger, smiling as he did so, “ _fuck off,_ already!”

“Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone,” the android gave his partner a wink over his shoulder as he turned to leave the room.

     Connor then headed to the far end of the main room, entering the corridor that leads to the elevators. He pressed the button to call the elevator down and laced his fingers together behind his back. As he waited for the lift to arrive, he heard footsteps approach from behind him; the doors opened and Connor peered over his shoulder as he entered the lift. The source of the footsteps followed him, sneering, “well if it isn’t the plastic wonder.”

“Good afternoon, Detective Reed,” the android nodded hesitantly at the man as he entered the elevator behind him.

“It was until now,” the detective had his jaw set tight, “what the fuck are you doing in my precinct again?”

“I am working as Lieutenant Anderson’s partner in investigating felonies committed against androids,” Connor straightened his tie to give himself something to focus on as he spoke, “Captain Fowler just finished my hire paperwork this morning.”

“I thought I warned you not to come back,” detective Reed was stepping closer, anger permeating from his eyes, “told you it wouldn’t be good for your well-being.”

The android tilted his head slightly, lacing his fingers in front of him to keep them engaged, “am I to understand that you are threatening an officer of the law, detective?”

“You’ll never be a _real_  detective,” the elevator dinged as it reached Reed’s floor, “just a machine, designed to complete a task,” Gavin spat the last words of his sentence.

     The detective pushed past Connor as he exited the elevator, knocking him sideways a bit as he shoved his shoulder into him. The android huffed out a light sigh and reached out to tap the close door button quickly. He clenched his fists at his sides; though he had wanted nothing more than to tell Gavin off, that’s exactly what he wanted him to do. Detective Reed was pushing Connor’s buttons, trying to coax him into a fight in an attempt to get rid of him. Though Connor didn’t believe that Captain Fowler would fall for Gavin’s antics, they still made Connor both furious and nervous.

Perhaps even, _afraid_?

     If Gavin was willing to corner and threaten him in the elevator, it would be hard to tell what else he would be willing to do. Where should he draw the line with detective Reed to know when he has passed beyond his typical angry behavior into dangerous waters? The thought that the detective might one day act upon his threats raised a feeling in Connor’s chest that made him uncomfortable. The android pushed the thought and the building emotion to the side as the elevator reached his desired floor. He strode out of the elevator with new-found determination, bounding down the hallway toward the lab. As he approached the front desk, worry lines appeared on the secretary’s forehead as she peered up at Connor and scrunched up her eyebrows, “you look like you’ve been having a rough day.”

“I’m sorry,” the android paused for a moment, shaking his head lightly and adjusting his facial muscles, “I did not realize that I was wearing an unpleasant expression.”

“It’s ok, honey,” the older woman smiled at him, “we all have bad days; what can I do for you?”

“Lieutenant Anderson sent me to check on the status of the blood sample we sent down,” Connor laced his fingers behind his back, “I do not expect there to be much, but he was hoping you might have been able to link it to a person of interest via the database.

She rolled her chair over to the computer terminal next to her, “what was the case number for that, again?”

“FC-38-05734-DPD-BKZ” Connor recited the memorized case file, pausing to allow her to catch up as needed while she typed.

“It doesn’t look like we’ve matched anything,” she scrolled down on the page she was looking at, “we’ve run it through the local criminal database, the national DNA database, and we’ve put up requests for flags if something matching appears—nothing as of yet.”

“I didn’t suspect so, as it __has__  only been a day,” the android straightened up his stance, “it never hurts to check, however.”

“We’ll ring Lieutenant Anderson’s desk if anything comes up,” she snatched a sticky note from a nearby dispenser and scribbled down a note.

“Thank you for your time,” Connor gave the woman a wave and then turned to return the way he had come.

     His steps echoed though the long stone hallway as he made his way back to the elevators; he liked the sound his dress shoes made as they clicked across the tiles. The android found himself tapping his foot as he waited for the elevator, examining the noise it caused to bounce around the elongated room. Connor thought it was intriguing that he was just now noticing such sounds within his environment, and unusual that he found them so fascinating. They had always been there as he made his way through the precinct, but he had never paid them any attention. He wondered for a moment what specific changes in becoming deviant created this new state of mind where he was paying so much more attention to such insignificant details. As he thought about it, he realized that he’d been doing it all day—even when he was having lunch with Hank. He could recall several times where he was simply examining the workings of his partner’s jawline as he talked and ate; he even remembered watching the wrinkles on the lieutenant’s face gathering together as he smiled and scrunched his eyebrows in frustration. Connor reached a hand up to touch his own face, now lost in his train of thought, and scratched at the edges of his mouth. He expected to find the usual smooth plastic skin that had always been there, but he instead felt a gathering of small, silky objects. Plucking them from his face, he brought them out so he could examine them.

_ >Kingdom: Plantae_

_ >Order: Cornales_

_ >Family: Hydrangeaceae_

_ >Genus: Hydrangea_

     Connor gave the small star-shaped petals resting in his palm a puzzled look; why was be finding flowers on his face? He didn’t recall passing any flowers at all during their work today, let alone a hydrangea bush—he couldn’t even recall the last time he’d seen a hydrangea. Had he ever seen one in person? The loud ding of the elevator arriving pulled him out of his thoughts and he snapped his head up to look at the opening doors.

“That…” he gathered his eyebrows into a concerned expression, “ _startled_ me.”

     He scratched at the back of his neck, unsure of himself; he felt as though he were beginning to lose his mind. With a heavy sigh, Connor slipped the small blue petals into his inside coat pocket and then moved forward into the open elevator. The doors closed behind him just moments after he’d entered and he darted a finger out to select the button that would return him to the main investigation floor. Leaning against the back wall of the small space, he pulled his coin out of his opposite jacket pocket and began to move it across his knuckles. When the elevators opened, he walked swiftly toward his partner’s desk, still moving the coin from hand to hand; too many thoughts were trying to enter into his mind at once and he forced himself to simply focus on getting back to Hank. As he approached behind his partner, he relayed what he had been told, “there haven’t been any hits with the database yet, but she has the DNA flagged in the event that another case comes in with matching samples.”

The lieutenant jumped, spilling some of his coffee, “God dammit!”

Hank pushed his chair away from the desk a bit, looking down at his shirt, “Jesus Christ, Connor,” he spun around in his chair, “you can’t creep up on people like that!”

“I’m sorry,” he turned to move toward the break room at the opposite end of the room, “I’ll go get you some napkins.”

     He moved swiftly and gracefully toward the break room, tucking his coin into his coat pocket as he walked. Snatching a small pile of napkins from the dispenser that was seated next to the coffee maker, he turned on his heels to return to his partner. Upon arriving, he handed Hank a few of the retrieved paper napkins and set the rest on the desk, “it was not my intention to scare you.”

“Maybe come around the front next time,” he patted at his shirt a bit before beginning to wipe up the puddle that was sitting on the desk next to the mouse, “gonna give an old man a heart attack.”

“Your vitals seem fine,” Connor tilted his head and then moved to help Hank with the mess, “I do not believe that you are at risk at this time.”

“It’s an expression, Connor,” the lieutenant shook his own head with a sigh.

     The android collected the soiled napkins and brought them to the waste basket at the base of Hank’s desk, slowing his pace as he brought himself back to a stand. He found himself examining his partner’s legs and feet as they worked to lean him forward in his effort to clean off the desk. One foot was flat on the ground, the other brought up to rest on the pad of his shoe, and his legs were tensed, bearing the weight that had shifted from the chair. He was snapped back to look at Hank’s face when the lieutenant turned in his chair and held out another handful of dirty napkins, “throw these away too, will ya?”

“Y-yeah,” Connor nodded, taking the napkins and reaching down to place them in the basket with the others, “anything else?” He brought himself to a full stand after tossing the last of the napkins.

“No, I think that’s all of it,” Hank returned his chair where it had been previously and moved to finish typing his report, “this is almost done, too.”

“Did you want me to proof-read it?” Connor sat on the edge of Hank’s desk.

“Nah, it’s fine,” the lieutenant chuckled, “Fowler’s used to my shitty reports by now,” he then moved the mouse to click into a new text box, “you could probably head out for the night—not going to be much else to do until my boys finish interviewing the neighbors and patrolling the area.”

“Oh, I’ll be staying here,” Connor got up to move to his own terminal, “I’ll look over the case files the other detectives are working on and see if we have any overlap,”

“You’ll be staying here?” Hank peered up at him, “don’t you have somewhere to go?”

“Well, no,” the android leaned over to press the power button on his terminal, “I suppose I’m effectively homeless, but I really only need somewhere to recharge.”

“You don’t have an…” the lieutenant waved his hand through the air in a circular motion, “apartment, or something?”

“I only arrived in town this morning,” Connor opened the database and logged in using the credentials provided to him earlier by the captain, “I had been conversing with Captain Fowler though e-mail and phone prior to meeting in person today.”

“So you just moved into town,” he ran a hand through his hair, “without even setting up anywhere to stay?”

“No, the captain said I could stay here,” he scrolled through the recent android case files, “at least until I have my own place.”

“That’s not a good idea, Connor,” Hank rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “not everyone here at the station is on board with the whole android rights thing.”

The android nodded once, “I ran into Detective Reed at the elevators.”

“Gah—fuckin’ asshole,” the lieutenant slammed a palm on the desk leaned back into his chair, “did he give you a hard time?”

“A little,” Connor clicked on one of the case files to look at it a little closer, “I reminded him that he was now threatening an officer,” the android peered up at his partner, “that seemed sufficient to deter further escalation.”

“Ha!” Hank leaned forward, placing an elbow on the desk and leaning on his hand, “turns out Gavin’s just another prick talkin’ out his ass.”

“I certainly hope so,” the android closed the case file and moved to open a different one.

“Made you a little uneasy, huh?” the lieutenant was peering around his monitor to look at his partner.

Connor stopped scrolling, pulling his hands to rest on his thighs, “…yeah.”

     Hank stared at the android for a moment; Connor was clearly lost in his thoughts, as his face was gathered into a glare as he fixated on a specific spot on the desk in front of him. “Look, Connor—I don’t feel comfortable with you staying here at the station,” he then cleared his throat, squirming a bit in his seat, “why don’t you come crash on my couch for a while?”

The android snapped his head up quickly to look at Hank’s face, “are you,” he paused before continuing, “offering for me to stay with you?”

“Yeah, why not?” Hank leaned back again, “I trust you—not like you’re gonna steal anything.”

Connor looked contemplative, “I believe I might begin to annoy you, Hank,” he tightened his hands into fists, “seeing me all day at home and then at work might be a bit __tiresome__  for you.”

“Maybe,” he peered at his now-empty coffee, “I think it’ll be fine though—you’re starting to grow on me,” the lieutenant then smiled over at Conner.

The android blinked a few times, feeling his chest tighten. He stumbled through his next sentence, “I uh… thank you, Hank.”

“Let me finish this and we can get out of here,” Hank turned back to his computer.

Connor nodded, “I’ll… download a few of these reports to look over,” he returned his attention to the terminal, flexing his fingers in an attempt to make them stop trembling, “some of them look as though they might be related to our newest case.”

“Maybe order some Chinese food when you’re done,” Hank paused his typing, “I’m not hungry yet, but I also don’t feel like cooking dinner later.”

“I can do that,” Connor nodded and gave his partner a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, at this point, this fanfiction has more words in it than the re-write of the original novel I've been working on for the past year. This, my friends, is proof that though fanfiction writing isn't necessarily easier to do, it is indeed more fun - you lose yourself in it. You get excited about the characters you've fallen in love with in your favorite stories, movies, and games and just run with it. I look forward to writing more; it has helped me through this terrible writer's block.


	5. Anxiety

     Connor heard Hanks’ alarm clock go off as he flipped the last of the pancakes over on the griddle. He could hear his partner’s voice echo through the house as he was awoken, “Fuck! Why is the alarm set so damn early?”

     The android chuckled to himself as he moved to grab a glass from the cupboard; he then filled it with orange juice from the fridge and placed the now-full cup next to a plate that was already set out on the table. As Hank’s footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway, Connor was moving the final pancake from the griddle to the same plate. The lieutenant stumbled into the kitchen, peered at Connor, and then huffed out a small laugh, “I forgot you were here.”

“I made breakfast,” the android started to clean up the cooking mess, “eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit, and orange juice.”

“Shit,” the older man plopped down into the kitchen chair in front of the prepared meal, “can’t remember the last time I’ve had a real breakfast.”

Connor placed the spatula in the dish drainer as he finished cleaning it, “what were you eating before?”

“Sometimes a breakfast bar, or shake,” he poured a bit of syrup on his pancakes, “sometimes nothing.”

“That’s really not healthy for you, Hank,” Connor finished cleaning the batter bowl and placed it into the dish drainer as well.

“No, I really didn’t take care of myself,” the lieutenant paused his eating for a moment, “you’ve shown me I need to change that.”

The android placed a clean stirring spoon into the silverware partition of the drainer, “I’m happy to be of assistance.”

“No, seriously,” Hank looked up at Connor as the android turned to meet his gaze, “it’s been good to have you back.”

“I’m… glad to be back,” the younger man swiftly returned to cleaning the soiled dishes.

“Did you uh…” the lieutenant finished chewing his bite of eggs before continuing, “find anything interesting In those other cases?”

“Nothing at felony level,” Connor placed a clean knife into the silverware partition, pointed downward, “but there were a few open civil cases involving androids reportedly being stalked and feeling threatened.”

Hank finished another bite of pancake, “maybe our three attackers are looking to cause more trouble?”

“If they are related,” the android wiped the cooled griddle off, “then It would seem that another attack will happen soon,” he turned the water off and dried his hands off, “and the target is likely to be one of our stalker victims.”

Hank swallowed the last bite of his eggs, “we should get our boys to interview them again, maybe get a description from one of them.”

“We could then compare that description to the one from our own crime scene,” the android was now drying the dishes he’d washed and putting them away into the cabinets.

The lieutenant nodded, mulling through another mouthful of pancake, “I doubt we’ll get anything out of it, but its better than waiting around for another body to drop.”

“I’m not sure why I hadn’t thought of it at the time,” Connor sat down at the table across from Hank after he finished putting the clean dishes away, “but I could also attempt to gather memories from the… deceased androids,” he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “I doubt I could get much out of the head injury victim, but the other might have useful information for us.”

“Yeah, you did that with the murders we were investigating before you left,” the lieutenant chewed on a grape, “but wasn’t that rather uh… _stressful_ for everyone involved?”

Connor nodded slowly, “yes, but I would rather try than risk more bodies.”

“Makes sense,” he picked at a slice of apple, “just be careful—doing it always seemed to shake you up pretty bad.”

     The android’s fingers began twitching as he thought about the process. He would have to find a way to reactivate the android, which would prove to be difficult due to the interruption in his thirium flow. After activation, the victim would likely be frantic—his last moments were full of terror. Connecting with an android caught in his last dying minutes would be taxing and Connor was now dreading it. Though, it was likely the only way to move the investigation forward if none of the sketches pull up any leads and the android had a feeling that the officers on the patrol would come up with little to go by. As he pondered, he found himself gripping the pants at his thighs lightly, tapping with the thumb of one of his hands.

“Are you alright over there?” Hank had finished his breakfast and was leaning forward to look at his partner.

“I’m… I’m fine, Hank,” Connor released the death grip he had on his pants and rubbed his palms against the fabric.

“You don’t look fine,” the lieutenant tilted his head as he peered disapprovingly at the android.

“Anxious,” Connor stammered a little as he spoke, “I’m simply a bit anxious about the prospect of connecting to a victim in order to obtain information.”

“You don’t have to,” Hank leaned back in his chair again, “if it’s too much, it’s too much—don’t worry about it,” he picked up his glass to take a sip, “we’ll crack the case either way.”

     The android scanned his partner’s face as he spoke; his eyes were sincere and held a gleam of something he hadn’t seen in them before. They were different, almost mesmerizing in a way. He could have lost himself in those eyes if Hanks’ gruff voice hadn’t pierced through his thoughts, “seriously, Connor—you don’t have to.”

“I appreciate that, Hank,” he stood up and moved to take Hank’s plate to the sink, “but if it can move the investigation forward, then I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Alright, just don’t push yourself too hard,” the lieutenant smiled at his partner, “can’t have you falling apart on me.”

     Connor tried to return with a quip, but found the words caught in his throat. He turned back around toward the sink and paused a moment, moving his hand to his mouth and clearing his throat. A small flurry of star-shaped blue petals fell from his lips, cascading down onto his clenched fist. He quickly examined one, determined that they were more hydrangea petals, and then stashed them into his inside coat pocket with the others before turning back around, “I’ll be sure to take care in my efforts.”

“I’m going to go take a shower,” the lieutenant pointed a thumb behind him in the general direction of the bathroom, “we can head out once I’m done.”

“I’ll take Sumo for a walk while I wait,” the android moved to retrieve the dog’s leash from its hook next to the door.

“Thanks,” Hank stumbled back toward the bedroom, “he really seems to like you.”

Connor clipped the waste bag carrier to the hand loop of the leash and called out for the lieutenant’s animal companion, “Sumo? Here boy—let’s go outside!”

     The Saint Bernard padded lazily across the kitchen floor and sat patiently next to the android as he clipped the leash to his collar. Connor then opened the door and the two of them were headed down out the front door into the crisp morning air. They headed down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace as Sumo stopped to sniff the air every few minutes. The android took this time to contemplate his unexpected situation; he was coughing up flowers for no reason that he could think of, but it was progressively getting worse every time it happened. It was beginning to concern him, as he wondered if some seeds had somehow made their way into his thirium system and sprouted up through his tubing. This theory satisfied the logical part of his deviant mind, but something tugged at the illogical part that pointed out a very strange fact—it always seemed to happen when he was thinking about Hank. The first time it had happened, he was talking with him at the diner, the second was when he was contemplating his facial features at the elevators, and the most recent when he was reacting to something his partner had said to him. He wanted to talk to him about it, but something in his chest tightened whenever he thought to do so. The android shook his head and gritted his teeth, “Oh, this is so frustrating!”

Sumo looked up at him, as if to question his sanity, and Connor reached down to scratch at the back of one of his ears, “I should be able to talk to him— _why_ can’t I talk to him?”

“If my systems are malfunctioning,” he straightened back up and motioned angrily through the air with one of his hands, “Hank should be the first person to know,” he huffed out a quick sigh, “yet I can’t seem to make myself tell him!”

The Saint Bernard let out a soft whine and sat down in the grass next to the android, laying his head against his leg. Connor once again leaned down to pat at the dog’s head, “I’m sorry, boy,” he tugged at the leash lightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

     They continued to walk down the sidewalk for a bit until Sumo found a spot to relive himself; as he did so, Connor tried to work out a solution in his head. He thought briefly about talking to Captain Fowler, but he didn’t want to be taken off the case while his malfunctions were addressed. The android also thought about contacting Markus in Jericho for assistance, but was sure that Hank and the captain would suspect something with his leaving town so soon after arriving—Jericho didn’t have many resources set up for repairs anyway, and what few they did have were drained in the aftermath of the attack on the original location. Cyberlife would be an option for malfunctions eventually, as they were utilizing their knowledge of the androids they created to open repair and alteration shops across the nation, but their launch was still almost a year away. He likely had no other option than to confide in Hank and hope that his partner had some connections from his long stint as a detective to find him a mechanic or engineer capable of working on androids and someone to supply him with the parts required to repair him.

     Connor was snapped out of his thoughts by a rustling bush across the street; the sound and movement produced was far too great to be any of the typical wildlife creatures from the area. He stopped for a moment to peer around the neighborhood—everything seemed too still after the initial noise that had pulled him out of his contemplation. The streets were empty, something that wasn’t too unusual for the area, especially this early in the morning, but the immense quiet gave the android an uneasy feeling.

Something was _wrong_.

Sumo began to protest with a gruff low growl and Connor moved to head back to the house, “come on, boy—let’s get back.”

     As they walked, the android began to feel as though he were being watched. Whoever was following him was likely trailing him for a while, but Connor’s thoughts had distracted him from the signs. The foliage rustled when it shouldn’t, faint footsteps could be heard echoing from the shadows, and light breathing could be picked up with close attention. The android quickened his pace as he walked; he was currently unarmed and hoped that his potential attackers were as well. Though, Connor doubted that anyone interested in stalking him during his morning walk would have any intentions other than aggression. He was practically running by the time he reached the yard, Sumo panting along beside him.

     When he arrived at the front steps, he flung the door open, darted inside, dropped the Saint Bernard’s leash, and turned to bolt the door behind him. Once it was secure, the android dropped down to his knees, letting out a breath he didn’t remember taking. Sumo was whining and moved to lick at his face as he leaned his head against the door, shaking.

“Jesus, Connor,” Hank walked across the living room toward his partner, shirt in hand, “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Uh… someone,” he sat back on his heels, “someone was following me.”

“Yeah?” the lieutenant moved to the window as he pulled his shirt on, bending down to peer through the blinds when he arrived, “did you get a good look at them?”

“No, I’m sorry, I…” the android turned on his heels and let his weight lean back against the wall next to the door, “I just _ran _.__ ”

“Yeah, you seemed a bit panicked when you came in,” he patted Sumo on his neck and removed his leash, “do you think they followed you to the house?”

Connor blinked a few times and then shook his head lightly, “No—I don’t believe so,” he took a deep breath, “I stopped hearing their footsteps about two blocks back.”

“I’ll let the boys know our suspects are in the area,” the lieutenant peered down at Connor, “Now, seriously—are you alright?”

The android placed his head in his hands, “I was so _scared,_ Hank.”

“Shit,” Hank ran a hand through his hair, then he turned to lean his back against the door, “shook you up that bad, huh?” he slid down the door to sit on the floor beside his partner.

“They’d been following me for a while,” the android shook his head, “I didn’t notice because I was,” he spit out the last words of his sentence, “ _lost in thought_!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Hank held a hand up, “don’t beat yourself up for being a person,” he set one of his hands on the android’s shoulder, “I’m just glad you came home in one piece.”

The android leaned forward to rest his forehead on his knees, “I’m sorry, I just,” he sighed, “I hadn’t felt like this since…” he squeezed his legs in a hug, “that day on the roof.”

Hank nodded slowly, “just take it easy for a little while,” he squeezed the android’s shoulder and then let his arm fall into his own lap, “I’d suggest you stay home or take a late day, but that would leave you here alone,” he leaned his head back to rest on the wood of the door, “let’s head in to the station; I’ll make the call to get the patrol started on the way over.”

Connor loosened the grip he had on his legs, leaning to the side to push himself to a stand, “I’d feel much better if Ben’s officers checked out the neighborhood.”

The lieutenant pulled himself to a stand using the door handle, “trust his men more?” he peered out the window once again before unlocking and opening the front door.

“I feel that they are a bit more… thorough,” the android followed his partner, but peered around a bit sporadically as he walked.

Hank locked the door behind them and they made their way to the car, “no problem, but I might end up doing a few interviews today with the reassignment.”

“Thank you,” Connor’s face was gathered in worry.

The lieutenant nodded, “you’re going to be the death of me, Connor,” he smirked as he unlocked the car doors, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	6. Stress

"Well, would you look at that?” Ben grinned at Hank as he and Connor entered into the main grouping of computers at the station, “Arriving at work before noon—it’s a miracle!”

“Oh, shove it,” the lieutenant gave a sideways smirk to the officer as he approached, “did your guys find anything before we moved them?”

“One reported sighting in the neighborhood north of our crime scene,” the officer swiveled in his chair to face him, “but nothing other than that, no.”

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” Hank scratched at the back of his neck, “we can keep an ear to the ground in that area for a while.”

“That’s the plan,” he pointed a pen in the lieutenant’s direction, “I’ll keep the two of you informed of anything my boys find in _your_ neighborhood during their sweep as well.”

Hank nodded, “I appreciate it, Ben.”

“No problem,” Ben shifted his glance over to the android, “I’m not about to let anyone get away with threatening one of ours.”

“Thank you,” Connor gave a nod as well.

“We’re going to go over the evidence we’ve collected so far,” the lieutenant moved to head toward his own desk, “we’ll keep in touch.”

     The two of them walked over toward their desks and Hank motioned toward Connor’s when they arrived, “why don’t you go ahead and start a case map on the link you found with the downloaded reports from last night,” he then pointed toward the break room down the hall, “I’m going to go get some coffee.”

“Too early for you, Hank?” the android smirked at his partner.

The lieutenant waved dismissively at Connor, “Don’t start—I’ll hear enough of that from everyone else!”

     Connor sat down in his chair, but found himself watching Hank for a moment as he walked away; something about the way the lieutenant carried himself was pleasing to him, though he couldn’t quite place it. The android shook his head and swiveled his chair around to face his terminal, cursing himself for once again staring. Connor noted that he was getting lost in thought more often as time progressed and assured himself that he would ask Hank about it when there was an appropriate moment. For now, however, the android settled with burying himself in his work; he pressed the power button on his terminal to boot it up and pulled himself closer to the desk as he waited for it to whir to life. Once it was booted, he logged in, opened the appropriate programs, and set to work in creating a case map that linked a few of the reports from last night as possibly having a relation to their current murder case. He was almost finished with the first two cases of the map when Hank returned, “how’s it going?”

The android lifted his head up with a start, turning to look at his partner, “I’ve… only imported two of the cases so far.”

“Shit, Connor,” Hank tilted his head to peer around at the android’s face, “did I scare you?”

“I know it was not your intention to do so,” he started typing again, “don’t worry about it.”

“Well, you’re just getting more human every day, aren’t you?” the lieutenant smiled as he set the mug of coffee he’d retrieved on his own desk, “expanding emotions, daydreaming, and now getting startled,” he plopped down into his chair, “you’ve come a long way.”

“I’ve been getting lost in my thoughts quite often,” he paused his typing, “it’s worrisome.”

“Nothing to worry about, Connor,” he took a sip of his coffee, “just need to work on pulling out of it when you need to.”

Connor wasn’t pleased with this answer, as it didn’t really provide a solution—it simply pushed it aside as if it weren’t a problem to begin with. He sighed lightly and returned to his work.

“Seriously, Connor,” Hank moved the mouse at his own terminal to wake it from sleep, “that’s a pretty normal part of being a person,” he shrugged, “you daydream.”

“I trust you, Hank,” he scrolled down as he selected another case file to import, “though I enjoy it at times, I just worry that I’ll wander in my thoughts at an inappropriate or dangerous time.”

“I’ve been there,” the lieutenant opened the database software, “sometimes you just get distracted,” he scrolled through the files, “we’ll work on it.”

The android nodded, “what are you working on?”

“I’m going to look over some of the reports Ben’s group put up here,” he pointed at the monitor as though Connor could see what he was doing, “you let me know when you’re done over there and we’ll head down to the evidence locker.”

     Connor finished uploading the related reports to the ongoing investigation, then began his work of entering notes in various areas where he and Hank had found further information. He hesitated when he began imputing the information from his own stalking encounter from that morning, but pushed forward to enter in the details. As he worked, he could hear the click of Hank’s mouse over his own keyboard strokes and peered over at his partner a few times. The lieutenant seemed focused, his eyebrows brought together lightly as he peered at his own screen; Connor took a moment to watch as Hank’s eyes darted back and forth across his work. He felt another tightness in his chest as the lieutenant lifted his coffee to take another drink, his throat working up and down as he swallowed. The android uploaded his completed case map to the database and then pushed his chair back to come to a stand. He nodded at Hank and hurried off toward the restrooms, giving an explanation through gritted teeth, “I’ll be right back.”

     The lieutenant looked confused, but nodded back at Connor as the android walked off. Connor rushed down the hall and slipped into the men’s restroom; after ensuring that there was no one inside with him, he leaned over the sink and spat out what was forcing its way up his throat. A large cascade of blue star-shaped petals fluttered down into the sink and the android found himself caught in a small coughing fit as more made their way up out of his mouth. When the fit finally subsided, the sink was nearly full with flowers. The android pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser and wiped at his mouth, examining the residue left behind after doing so. There was a small amount of thirium mixed in with the petals that he had expelled, and a new emotion set itself in his gut like a deep pit. There really was something wrong with him and he now worried that this malfunction would be much worse than he had originally thought. Flowers growing into his artificial lungs, though annoying, would be of little consequence and easily corrected; flowers growing into his thirium tubing or into his pump would be something else entirely. Connor gripped at the edges of the sink for a moment as he once again contemplated his choices; the same issues arose as had before and he really believed that his best course of action would be to talk to Hank. However, he once again found himself hesitant to do so, despite the fact that he might quite literally be dying. He pounded a fist at the corner of the porcelain, “why!?”

     He set his feet and got to work in cleaning up the mess he had made; if he were thinking more clearly, he would have used the trash can rather than the sink, but his decision making process seemed to have a hiccup in it of late. Once the sink was clean, the android washed his hands, took a deep breath, and examined himself in the mirror. He ensured that there was no evidence of his flower-fueled coughing fit and then turned to exit the restroom. As he headed out, detective Reed entered the room, running into him as he walked past. The detective sneered at him upon contact, “watch where you’re going, ya’ plastic prick!”

“ _Fuck off_ , Gavin,” the words escaped Connor’s lips without him even thinking about it.

“What did you just fucking say?!” the detective moved to intercept the android, but Connor slipped past and continued to walk out toward Hank’s desk.

Hank chuckled lightly as Connor returned, “what the hell did you say to Gavin?” he leaned sideways to get a better look at the detective, who was now peering out of the bathroom at the android, “he looks __pissed__!”

“I uh…” the android rubbed the fingers of his right hand together nervously and shifted his weight to his left leg, “told him to fuck off.”

The lieutenant stared at Connor in utter disbelief for a long moment before finally erupting in roaring laughter, “You… you told him to _what _?__

 _ _“__ I told him to fuck off,” the android plopped down into his own chair without his usual ceremony.

“Why?” he was talking through teary-eyed laughter, “I mean, I’m all for it—but why?”

Connor rubbed at his own face, “he called me a ‘plastic prick’.”

Hank lost himself to another bout of heavy laughter, “Jesus Christ, Connor,” he palmed his face, “what the hell?”

The android tensed his shoulders, “I don’t know, it just…” he leaned back in his chair and scrunched his eyebrows, “made me _angry _.__ ”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” the lieutenant wiped at his eyes, “Gavin’s an asshole, but I doubt he’d hurt you.”

“I’m not so sure,” the android peered back over at the restroom, where Gavin was now exiting and glaring at the two of them, “he seems to be _very_ upset about it.”

“He’ll get over it,” the older detective chuckled a few more times, “I definitely wouldn’t stay here alone now, though—just in case.”

“I’m sorry, Hank,” Connor let out a heavy sigh.

“Nah, don’t be,” he smirked over at his partner, “that’s the best shit I’ve heard all week,” the lieutenant then motioned toward the opposite hallway, “ready to get to work?”

Connor nodded and pulled himself back up out of his chair, moving around to meet his partner at the edge of his desk. He smiled at Hank as he groaned, moving past him, “never going to get used to that.”

     The two detectives made their way across the investigation floor toward the left side hallway. Connor peered over at the restroom one last time before his view of it was blocked with the stone walls of the long hallway; Gavin was nowhere in sight, but the android worried that he would run into him alone in the station later. He snapped his fingers periodically as he walked along with Hank toward the evidence locker security doors. The lieutenant swiped his key card as they arrived and slipped inside, “I know you could handle this,” he motioned with his head for Connor to walk ahead of him, “if you’d rather me leave you to it, just let me know.”

The android darted his head over to peer at his partner, “No! Uh…” his eyes widened and he turned his head to look away again, flexing his fingers, “I mean… No, I’d appreciate your company during the process.”

     Hank clasped a hand on Connor’s shoulder before leaning over the center console and entering his password. The wall opened up and rotated a few sets before finally arriving on a case full of evidence from their current investigation. Hank then motioned to a door at the far right of the room, “the androids are in there,” he straightened up and let his hand fall from Connor’s shoulder, “they’re working on an extension to the morgue, but its not done yet.”

“I was expecting them to be hanging here like before,” the android stared at the bare hook on the set of shelves and hangings that the console had exposed.

“Yeah, it just didn’t seem right with everything that’s changed,” he took a few steps toward the door at the far side of the room, “left a bad taste in Fowler’s mouth—mine too.”

Connor nodded, “I’m glad they’re not here.”

     He turned on his heels to follow his partner as Hank opened the large metal door; the room beyond was still and stale, likely undisturbed since the androids were brought in. Their footsteps echoed in the large, nearly empty room as they made their way across the tiles to the steel tables at the far wall. The androids were laid out on the tables with clipboards containing information about their diagnostics and the associated case hanging at their feet. They stared at the ceiling, eyes now lifeless and the once fluid thirium at their wounds dried into a sticky mess; Connor shuddered lightly at the sight and closed his eyes briefly. The lieutenant raised a hand to rest it on his partner’s shoulder, “you ok?”

“I’m fine,” the android nodded and then moved toward the body of the stab wound victim, “it is just a bit unsettling to see them like this.”

Hanks’ hand fell off of Connor’s shoulder as he had moved forward, “what do we need?”

     Connor peered down at the android on the table in front of him; the fatal wound had been the fourth stab wound, but the second had damaged vital components as well. The thirium pump and the tubing connecting the pump to the regulator were damaged by the knife and quite a bit of the vital liquid had spilled out. He bent down to get a closer look at the damage, “does the precinct have any thirium reserves available?”

“I’m not sure,” Hank scratched at the back of his neck as he looked around the room, “I’d imagine with you on the payroll, but I’d have to ask Fowler where it’s at.”

“I would appreciate it, Hank,” the android straightened back up to a stand, “I’ll get to work fixing what I can here.”

     The lieutenant lingered for a moment before turning to head back out the door they came in through. Connor looked around the room for the materials he would need to seal the tears in the victim’s thirium tubing; his eyes rested on another door centered on the wall and he moved to investigate. Opening it revealed a utility closet and the android went to work searching for items he could use, snatching a roll of tape and a tube of glue. He then ripped a piece off of a dangling painter’s tarp, turning on his heels and walking swiftly out of the closet back toward the tables. Connor used the acquired tape to repair the rips in the victim’s thirium regulator tubing and then glued the painter’s tarp to the side of his thirium pump to cover the damage that was done to it. As he replaced the lid to the super glue, he could hear the groan of the door behind him and the distinct clacking of Hank’s shoes across the tiles. He turned to face his partner as he approached, “were you able to find any thirium supplies?”

“Yeah, the captain’s got ‘em under lock and key,” the lieutenant offered the two bags of thirium blue blood he had brought with him, “apparently they’re expensive.”

Connor nodded, “I intend to only use what is needed,” he took one of the bags and went to work in refilling the victim’s supply through his pump, “one should prove to be sufficient.”

     Hank set the extra bag of thirium down on the second table and watched his partner work. Once everything was in place, the android stood up to examine the victim for a moment. He took a deep breath as he moved to turn the thirium pump clockwise and secure it back to its functioning position. The mechanisms inside the broken android’s body whirred to life and the tubing was soon full of blue liquid as the regulator established an appropriate flow. However, the victim’s eyes remained empty and lifeless, “there seems to be something wrong,” Connor moved to examine the issue closer, “the body is fully functional, but its computing components have not engaged.”

“Maybe he’s gone for good,” Hank spoke with an even tone and let his words fall flat in the air.

“It seems that might be the case,” the android frowned for a moment before reaching his hand out to interface with the reanimated corpse that lay before him, “I can still try.” When his hand touched the other android’s arm, however, Connor was bombarded with fragmented memories and flashing images.

His ears echoed with a loud crashing sound, glass shattering, and heavy thumping at the door.

_Screaming._

His eyes were blinded with flashes of gleaming knives, blood, and thirium.

_A sneering face._

His chest tightened as he fled, full of fear and panic.

_Pain._

His world spun as he fell, twisting, angry at the laughter that filled the air.

_Darkness._

“Connor!”

     The world suddenly snapped back to the stale cold air of the evidence storage room as the android fell backward into his partner and the two of them landed roughly on the floor. Hank let out a pained grunt as Connor pinned him down, losing himself in heavy, frantic breathing. The lieutenant shook at his partner’s shoulders, “Connor! Snap out of it!”

     Panicked brown eyes began to focus, peering around the room and taking in the reality of where he was. He turned slightly, looking back at the older detective that was hugging him from behind as he tried to find his footing to return to normalcy. The man’s arms were warm and the movement of his chest as he breathed was relaxing—the steady beat of his heart was comforting. Connor took a deep breath himself, shaking as he released it, “H-Hank?”

“Jesus Christ, Connor,” the lieutenant rested his forehead on the back of the android’s shoulder, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he let out a delirious chuckle, “it was not my intention to worry you.”

“What the fuck happened?” Hank was straightening back up.

Connor leaned forward, “His components were corrupted,” he scooted off of Hank and leaned against the legs of the metal table, “interfacing with him resulted in unexpected errors.”

“Unexpected errors?” the lieutenant ran a hand through his hair as he leaned against the second metal table behind him, “you had a fucking _panic attack_ , Connor.”

He nodded, “it was… rather terrifying.”

     The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, evaluating the situation and mulling over everything that had happened. Connor broke the silence as he pulled himself to a stand, backing away from the victims laying on the tables as soon as he had done so, “I did get a look at the attacker’s face.”

Hank let out an annoyed huff, “yeah?”

“It was not the same man spotted by the neighbor we interviewed,” he crossed his arms and shifted his weight uncomfortably, “I could create a portrait to give our patrolling officers.”

“All work and no play, huh?” the older detective sighed as he started to get up off the floor, “you’re going to work yourself to death.”

The android reached out a hand to help his partner up onto his feet, “I… I need the distraction.”

“I understand that—more than anyone,” Hank peered into the android’s eyes, demanding that he give his serious attention with his stern look, “but you can’t push yourself too hard, Connor.”

Connor nodded slowly, releasing Hank’s hand as he dropped his gaze, “we can go have lunch after I take care of this.”

The lieutenant picked up the leftover thirium bag and put an arm around the android’s shoulders, “sounds good,” he gave a gentle squeeze as the two of them started walking toward the door to exit the storage room.


	7. Confrontation

"Broad daylight,” Hank spoke gruffly as he pulled himself out of the car.

 Connor moved around the front of the vehicle to meet the lieutenant on the curb, “it’s likely we have a few more witnesses since this occurred during the day.”

 “Silver lining, I suppose,” the lieutenant chuckled lightly as the two of them started walking down the sidewalk toward the apartment complex, “you’ve always been good at that.”

 “Lieutenant,” an officer was exiting the building as the two of them approached, “I’m sorry we had to interrupt your lunch break.”

 Hank shrugged and gave her a smile, “I was done eating, we were just talking,” he motioned his head toward the building, “what are we looking at?”

 “Another homicide, unfortunately,” she pivoted to look back at the brick apartment complex and pointed her pen up to one of the windows at the corner, “third floor, apartment 311.”

 “Was anyone seen leaving the building?” Connor adjusted his cuff links as he peered up at the specified window, noting the rusted fire escape around the side.

 “We’ve interviewed the neighbors on both sides,” she straightened up and moved her gaze to make eye contact with him, “neither saw anything, but one of them said they heard a couple of male voices screaming about androids.”

  _ _“_ Fantastic_,” Hank sighed and rubbed at his forehead, “a hate group is _just_  what we need.”

 “Looks like that’s exactly what we have,” she pointed a thumb behind her, “this victim has the same blunt force wounds as the previous one.”

 “I’m surprised no one saw them exit,” Connor peered around the area, “there are quite a few residences here.”

 “That’s the thing,” she shrugged, “the building manager can’t find them on the security cameras either—it’s like they just disappeared.”

 “Odd indeed,” the android rubbed the fingers of his right hand together as he moved to examine the alleyway that the fire escape led to, “was there a malfunction?”

 She shook her head, “no, everything is working just fine.”

 “Alright, we’ll get in there and take it from here,” the lieutenant nodded at the officer as he started moving again, “set up a perimeter—maybe we can still catch these guys trying to sneak out of the neighborhood.”

 “Will do, lieutenant,” she turned and walked off toward a grouping of officers near the sidewalk.

     Connor and Hank moved toward the entrance of the building, gaining access through an officer stationed there for security. The interior walls were made of the same brick as the outside walls, and the floors were lined with commercial carpet, muffling their heavy footsteps as they walked down the main hallway to the elevators at the far right side. When the elevator arrived, the two of them stepped inside, Hank pressed the button for the third floor, and Connor pulled his coin from his pocket. The elevator slowly crept up to the desired floor as the android flicked the retrieved coin between his hands and rolled it across his fingers, “I’d imagine with the congruence in the victim’s wounds and the timing,” he peered over at Hank, “we’re likely to find a very similar crime scene to our previous one.”

“Yeah, I’m not expecting much in the way of new evidence,” the lieutenant crossed his arms and shifted his weight.

 “Something about the fact that no one saw them exit,” Connor paused his coin movement, rubbing at the face of it with his thumb for a moment before continuing, “it just seems __off__  to me.”

 “Didn’t sit right with me either,” Hank tilted his head in acknowledgement, “keep your eyes peeled.”

     They stepped out together when the elevator doors opened and headed down the main hallway in search of the apartment in question. It wasn’t long before they spotted the yellow tape and officers crowding around the door to room 311 and walked over to greet the men guarding the entrance, “thanks for holdin’ down the fort.”

 “Hello, lieutenant,” one of the officers nodded at them as they approached, “the first responding officer already headed downstairs,” he shifted his weight to his left leg, “did you catch her on the way up?”

 “Yeah, she brought us up to speed,” Hank ducked under the tape and pushed aside the busted apartment door, “keep your eyes peeled for anything weird, will ya?”

     Connor followed behind his partner as the two of them stepped into the small one-bedroom apartment. Evidence tags were set on the floor and tables throughout the living room they entered, mostly marking items that were disturbed during a small struggle. Several magazines and photos were strewn across the floor and a chair was upturned at the far right side of the room. Hank moved to examine the disturbed shelves while the android peered around the corner toward the bedroom to examine the victim. The body of an android with black hair and tan skin lay lifeless and staring on the cheap carpeted floor, thirium spilling from her lips. Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself as he knelt down to examine her closer. He took a swipe of the leaking thirium and brought it to his mouth to test, “Model AP700, serial number 538 219 054,” he moved a hand over to check the head wounds, “it would appear that the same weapon from our last victim was used on her as well.”

 “Same weapon type,” Hank ran a hand through his hair as he approached, “same strategy.”

 The android shook his head, “no, this was the same weapon—traces of thirium from our PL600 victim are present in her wounds.”

 The lieutenant crossed his arms, “didn’t even bother to clean it, huh?”

 “This seems…” Connor squinted his eyes a bit as he moved closer, “ _very_  fresh.”

“I can still see the blue blood,” Hank placed his hands on his hips as he stretched out his back a bit, “usually can’t by the time we get to it.”

 “Where were the officers when the neighbor put the call in?” the android moved his head to look at his partner.

 “The information I was given said they were already in the area,” he scratched at his chin, “earliest I think we’ve been on the scene in a long time.”

 “We might have interrupted them,” he stood up quickly, “it would explain why no one saw them leave.”

 “You think they’re still in the building?” Hank dropped his hands to his sides and straightened up.

 Connor nodded, walking around the apartment and checking areas they hadn’t previously, “I don’t see anywhere in here they could have hidden,” he returned his gaze to Hank, “we should ask the building manager where the cameras lost track of them.”

 “Shit,” Hank moved to exit the apartment, “let’s go.”

 The two of them exited through the broken apartment door and Hank took a moment to update the officers still stationed at the front, “be alert, boys—our suspect might still be around.”

     One of them nodded at the lieutenant as Hank and Connor headed down the hallway toward the elevators on the far west side of the building to head down to the manager’s office. Their footsteps were heavy, but the usual echo was muffled by the cheap carpet that lined the floors. Hank reached out and pressed the button to call the elevator as they arrived and the android found himself shifting his weight uncomfortably. He thought for a moment about breaching the subject of his current plight with the hydrangeas, but shook his head as he thought it was an inappropriate time. Connor had intended to bring the issue up at lunch, but their time together was cut short due to the homicide they were currently investigating. Perhaps he would ask him in the quiet of the house as he cooked dinner? Meals always seemed to make tough conversations go easier—a human thing he would likely never truly understand, as he could not eat himself.

They entered the elevator when it arrived and Connor pressed the button to return to the ground floor, pulling his coin from his pocket to feel and move across his fingers after doing so. The lieutenant chuckled lightly, “can’t get enough of that thing, huh?”

 “It helps me think,” he flicked the coin from his left hand to his right.

 Hank leaned against the back railing, “what’s on your mind?”

 The android took a deep breath, “now is not the time,” he let his shoulders relax, “I would like to discuss it with you over dinner tonight, however.”

 “Yeah?” the lieutenant peered over at Connor and then returned his gaze to the opening elevator doors, “we can do that.”

     Connor nodded and then moved out of the elevator, turning toward the building manager’s office that they saw on the way inside. The lieutenant followed behind, admiring the android’s skill with the coin as he flicked it from hand to hand while walking at the same time. Hank moved to the front when they arrived, giving a knock on the door and pulling his badge from his inside coat pocket. An older man answered the door, clearly shaken with the current events, but his eyes softened when he looked at the pair of detectives. Hank showed him his badge and introduced himself, “I’m Lieutenant Anderson and this is… uh…”

 “I am Connor,” he showed his own badge, “Model RK800, designed for detective work.”

The lieutenant nodded at his partner and then returned his gaze to the man before them, “We were investigating the homicide upstairs and had a thought,” he slipped his badge back into his coat pocket, “you mentioned to one of the officers that you didn’t see the men responsible leave on the security cameras?”

 “No, uh…” he scratched at the back of his head, “it’s like they just disappeared,” he motioned for them to follow him into the room, “here, I’ll show you.”

     The two detectives followed the man into the small room and the manager sat down at a desk on the left side, setting to work at bringing up a specific file. A recording appeared on the center monitor on the security setup as the others continued their work at displaying the various camera points in the building. The man moved the time slider and hit play, “here,” two men could be seen entering the apartment in question, one of which was the man from the police sketch and the other was until now unidentified.

 “Jason Hayes,” Connor scanned the face from the image, “he currently has a warrant out for failure to appear in court,” the android pointed at him as he reappeared on the screen, exiting the apartment.

 “He’s got blue blood on his shirt,” Hank pointed at his chest.

 The building manager switched files, “the cameras saw them go in, come out, and go down the first hallway,” he slid the tracking bar over and hit play, “but then they just disappear,” he changed the files one last time to show the same time stamps but without the men in question ever appearing.

 “There were no malfunctions?” Connor looked over at the man.

 He shook his head, “no, it has everyone else on camera, business as usual.”

 “They’re still on the third floor somewhere,” Hank turned to leave the room in a hurry.

 The android followed him, the two of them rushing back over to the elevators and designating the desired floor. Connor put his coin away, tensing as the lift slowly made its way up to the third floor, “it doesn’t make any sense—how did we miss them?”

 “They must have ducked into someone’s apartment,” Hank rolled his shoulder and pulled his gun as the elevator arrived and the doors opened, “be on your toes.”

 The two of them made their way down the hallway, peering around corners as they went. Hank stopped to motion at an apartment door in front of him, “they likely slipped into one between here and apartment 311.”

     As he finished speaking, the door to the storage closet beside him swung open, knocking him against the wall. Two men spilled out, one armed with a baseball bat and one with a gun. The first man swung the bat at Connor, who now found himself directly in front of the two of them. He put his arms up in front of him to protect his head, stumbling backward as the force of the bat connected with his forearms. The lieutenant moved up beside him as the two men started darting down the hallway toward the stairs at the far west side, raising his gun at them, “stop right there!”

 The second man turned, raising his own pistol to aim at the lieutenant as the man with the bat entered the stairwell. “Hank!” two gunshots rang out as Connor moved toward his partner.

     The armed man fell backward into the wall behind him as blood gathered at a bullet wound that was now in his chest. Blood smeared down the ragged brick as he slid down the wall into a pile on the floor. Hank lowered his gun, eventually dropping it as the weight of Connor leaned into him, “shit, fuck!”

     Hank lowered Connor to a sitting position and leaned him against the wall, assessing the extent of the damage that had clearly been done to his partner. A mix of thirium and blue star-shaped flower petals was spilling slowly out of his chest, as a bullet hole was present. Red warnings were flashing across Connor’s vision, informing him that his thirium tubing had been compromised. His arms were heavy and he found himself unable to move his limbs, as his primary systems were taking most of the remaining power that his pump was able to distribute, “Hank.”

     The two officers stationed at the apartment had moved toward them when they heard the gunshots, one had gone down the stairwell in pursuit and the other was now contacting the station to send aid for Connor. Hank was working through gritted teeth and intermittent curses as he attempted to find the source of the spilling thirium and hydrangea petals, “flowers?”

 The lieutenant found a large tube with a ragged hole in the side of it and sealed the offending wound with his thumb, “Connor, you with me?”

 “I’m still here, Hank,” his voice was off—more digital, as his systems were diverting power to more important components.

 Hank turned his head toward the officer behind him that had just finished putting in the call for an officer down, “go get me some tape or something!”

     The officer complied, setting to work in rummaging through the storage closet that the men had been hiding in. The lieutenant continued to apply pressure to the hole in his partner’s tubing as best as he could; thirium was spilling out much slower now, but he was still losing a lot of it and Connor was clearly having difficulties functioning. Hank’s sleeves were stained with blue blood and flower petals were stuck to his hands and one of his cheeks, “hang in there, Connor—someone’s coming to help.”

 The android nodded lightly, as his motor controls were slowly slipping away, “tell them to hurry,” he locked gazes with his partner, “Hank… I don’t want to die.”

 “You’re not going to die,” the lieutenant looked over at the officer, who was moving over with duct tape he had found, “you’re going to be fine.”

     Connor could no longer speak, his mouth moved in a futile effort to tell Hank that he was scared, but not even the gargled digital voice rang out from his lips. His vision was darkening as his systems diverted the very last of his power to the primary computing components. Hank looked at him and said something as he moved his hands to work at his chest, but the android realized he could no longer hear. His auditory processor was shut down and his vision was failing.

 

Connor soon lost himself to darkness.

 


	8. Relief

“That should do it,” a voice echoed lightly, muffled and distorted as Connor’s auditory processing unit was still initializing.

 Rustling and items clanging together rung through the air at a pitch a little higher than seemed normal, “will he be ok?”

 “Yeah, it was quick thinking with the tape,” something scooted across the floor as the android’s world slowly regained color, “likely saved him—sometimes androids don’t regain their deviant consciousness if they shut down completely.”

 Connor blinked a few times as the darkness faded from the edges of his vision, moving his eyes to peer about his surroundings. He could hear a familiar voice as he moved his head to the side, “He’s awake! Connor?”

 “...Hank?” he turned his head the other direction, his cheek touching the course carpeting of the floor; he realized he was still laying in the hallway of the apartment complex’s third flood.

 “Jesus Christ,” the lieutenant moved to the android’s side to look him in the eyes, “you really need to stop jumping in front of bullets, Connor.”

 Connor gave a weak smile and blinked a few more times to clear out the last lingering bit of haze in his vision. “I’m sorry, Hank,” he pulled himself slowly up to a sitting position, “it was not my intention to worry you.”

 Hank moved forward to help him, as the android’s motion seemed unbalanced and weak, “take it easy, huh?”

 “It would seem that my motor functions have not fully returned,” the android slouched a bit after sitting all the way up; his arms still felt heavy and he found himself unable to move his legs, “I’ll need a moment while my thirium pump works to return power to all of my systems.”

 “You take your time, Connor,” the lieutenant pat him on the back and let a hand rest at his shoulder for support, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

 “He should regain full control once power is able to properly circulate through his body,” a man kneeling at Connor’s feet spoke as he packed away some tools into a large bag, “he’ll need to do a proper recharge tonight, however—he’d lost a lot of thirium and a lot of power from his battery.”

 Hank nodded at the man lightly, “thank you.”

 “I’ll leave him in your care, Lieutenant,” the man brought himself up to a stand and then tilted his head to peer in the android’s direction, “and Connor, you really need to have that flower cluster taken care of before its roots get mucked up in your thirium pump.”

 “Flower cluster?” the lieutenant peered over at the younger man, “there were petals in his thirium when I was trying to stop the uh… bleeding,” he returned his gaze to Connor, alarm thickening his voice, “are they growing inside him?”

Connor sighed heavily, “that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about over dinner tonight,” he straightened his posture as motor control began to return to his arms and shoulders and then peered over at the man that had been responsible for his repairs, “I had been coughing up flowers and wanted to consult someone as to the reason why.”

 “Well, it’s called Hanahaki Disease,” the man scratched at the back of his neck as he spoke, “you’re actually the first case I’ve heard of happening in an android.”

 “Hanahaki…” Hank straightened up, “isn’t that some kinda lovesick disease?”

 The younger man nodded, “flowers usually take root around the heart and lungs as a result of unrequited love,” he leaned against the wall, “I could remove it, if you’d like, but I can’t guarantee there won’t be similar complications like those with humans.”

 “Complications?” Connor blinked slowly as he looked up at the man.

 “Surgery removes the emotions the flowers sprouted from,” he spoke flatly, “and only returned love can cure the disease naturally.”

 Hank shifted his weight to his right knee, “Connor, why didn’t you tell me?”

 “I’m not sure,” the android looked down at his hands.

 The man stood back up straight, hefting the weight of his toolbox, “I’ll give you two some time to talk about it,” he handed Hank his card, “if you need me to do the surgery, give me a call.”

      He then walked off down the hallway toward the elevators on the far end, leaving Hank and Connor alone. The android bent his knees up to test them as power began to return to his furthest joints, “did your men catch our suspects?”

 “What?” the lieutenant was distracted, staring off in the direction the man had left, “uh… I don’t know—I’ve been here with you,” he moved his eyes down to glance at the business card he’d been handed.

 Connor lifted his gaze to peer down the hallway at the slouched body of the man who’d shot him, “I see that the gunman is deceased,” an officer was taking photos of the body with evidence markers strewn about the area.

 “Yeah,” Hank let out a long sigh, “the other one ran down the stairwell,” he slipped the business card into his jacket pocket and slouched back against the wall, “the guys stationed downstairs probably caught him since they sent someone up to document the gunner.”

The android nodded, “I’ll head down and see where we stand with our investigation,” he moved to pull himself up to a stand slowly, ensuring that his motor functions would cooperate during the motion.

 “That’s just like you, Connor,” the lieutenant chuckled halfheartedly, “you get shot and set your nose to the grindstone the moment you’re up and running again.”

 “I’m sorry, Hank,” the android blinked a few times, looking down toward his own feet, “I’m just eager to put all this behind us.”

     The two of them existed in a drawn out moment of silence and stillness as Hank contemplated everything that had been thrust toward him in the last hour and Connor stood, struggling with what to do or say to ease his partner’s clearly shaken demeanor. The android opened his mouth a few times to speak, but never uttered a word; he stood, looking at the cheap carpet below his feet and scrubbing at a thirium stain that he’d found on his jacket with his thumb and forefinger. Hank eventually moved his head up to look at his partner, breaking the silence with a quiet and serious question, “who is it, Connor?”

 “I’m sorry, Hank,” the android scrunched his eyebrows up, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

 “I had a feeling that’d be your answer,” the older man let his head roll back down to stare at his hands again.

     After another moment of silence, the lieutenant braced his hand against the wall and heaved himself up to his feet. He staggered a moment, having sat on the floor for far too long, and then started walking down the hallway toward the elevators, “well, let’s get this over with then, huh?”

 

 


	9. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this update took so very long! I started a new exciting job just before Christmas, and then the holidays and training ate into my usual writing time. I finally sat down to get caught up on everything I'd missed in February and got half a chapter written - then I got into a car accident in early March. It has been a really wild ride for the end of 2018 and beginning of 2019, let me tell you! I've been dealing with doctors and insurance companies since March, so I'm just now sitting down to finish the chapter I started in February. I got it done today and I'm glad to have it released to the public - I love to write and I've missed it so very much! You'll have to forgive me further, though, as I predict the next update will take a bit of time as well (hopefully not nearly as long) as I deal with the aftermath of March's wreck and my new job's busy season. I hope you all enjoy what I have done, and I predict the next chapter will be the last installment of this adventure.

Connor and Hank entered through the main office doors at the precinct, greeting the security guard as they passed by. They were then met with a room that was empty, aside from one lone officer diligently completing paperwork. Their footsteps echoed through the empty space as they headed to their desks to complete some work of their own. It had been a long and eventful day, resulting in a final arrest for the string of Android murders in the area and thus a stack of related paperwork. There was also the matter of Connor’s injury and the expense report that now needed to be filed because of it. Hank peered over at his partner as they approached their desks; the android was looking off into the distance as he walked. The lieutenant scrunched his eyebrows, worry lines gathering on his forehead as he did so, “you seem a bit off, Connor.”

The android had a distracted look on his face, his eyes staring intently at some Invisible point in the distance as he continued to move to his own chair, “I apologize. I’m just… thinking.”

“You’ve been doing a hell of a lot of that lately,” the lieutenant hesitated, standing next to his chair instead of sitting down, “you did a lot of staring at people before you left for Jericho,” Hank looked over at Connor as the android sat himself gently into his seat, “now you seem to do a lot of staring at nothing.”

Connor paused, looking at his monitor but not seeing it, “how odd,” he peered up at the lieutenant for a moment, “you’re right, Hank,” he cast his eyes down, once again unfocused, “though, I cannot begin to explain why, unfortunately.”

With that, the android returned his gaze to the computer screen before him and moved the mouse to wake the machine from its slumber. The lieutenant watched Connor work for a moment and then lowered into his own chair to begin working on the investigation report. Soon, the sound of clacking keystrokes rang through the otherwise still air.

The android paused his typing as he reached the portion of his injury report where he had been shot; he tensed his hands into fists and then stretched his fingers out to type again, moving his head as though to shake unwanted thoughts from his mind. His efforts seemed futile, however, as his hands began to shake as he typed out the sequence of events that resulted in his need for repairs. Connor realized just how close he had come to shutting down for good— how close Hank had been to dying. He thought about it briefly as his world had been darkening in the hallway, but the reality of it was just sinking in heavily as he typed the words on the screen.

“You okay?” the lieutenant was peering around his monitor at the android.

Connor nodded slowly, “I’m fine— just struggling to find the right words for the report.”

“Don’t lie to me, Connor,” Hank moved his chair out from behind the screen and leaned forward, “you’re crying.”

“I’m… crying?” the android reached a hand up to wipe his eyes, discovering that he did indeed have a few tears at the edges, “I… was just thinking of how scared I was.”

The lieutenant nodded, “you scared the shit out of me too,” he laced his fingers together, resting his forearms on his knees and using them to support himself, “I’ve been on both sides of it myself, so if you need to talk…” Hank let his sentence trail off.

Connor gave a quick nod, “thank you, Hank.” he turned and motioned at the screen, “I think I can handle this.”

Hank took a deep breath, “oh I believe you can do all of this by yourself,” he leaned back into his chair, “but should you?”

The android stared at him for a moment, opening his mouth a few times as though to say something, but ultimately remaining silent and giving only a weak nod. He then returned to typing— now at a much slower pace than before.

Hank watched him for a moment, “don’t overwork yourself, Connor,” he rolled his chair back to continue his own work, “throwing yourself into your career doesn’t solve anything— believe me.”

A still quiet fell between them as they continued to type, now heavy with worry and expectations. Connor found himself stopping to take a deep breath to calm down after he had written the incident report, leaning back in his chair and letting his head fall back with closed eyes. The shaking in his hands gradually came to a halt as he focused on a faint sound nearby. He opened his eyes abruptly when he realized the soothing sound he was focused on was Hank’s steady breath.

“Feeling better?” the lieutenant’s voice seemed so much louder without the usual bustle of the office to dampen it.

Connor sat up straight in his chair once again, moving to begin work on the expense report that still needed to be done, “y-yes… thank you.”

 He hunched behind his monitor, hiding his face from his partner and setting back to work. The android was able to create and file the expense reports without any of the difficulties the injury report had posed for him. After submitting them to the main server, he rolled his chair back away from the desk, “I’m going to go take a walk,” he brought himself to a stand and pushed the chair back in, “call me when you’ve finished?”

The lieutenant gave a nod in acknowledgement and followed Connor with his eyes as he moved toward the door, “be careful.”

 Connor walked briskly out of the office through the front doors, waving a goodbye to the security officer as he did so. He quickly turned the corner and pressed the button on the elevator to return down to the main lobby. As he waited for the elevator to arrive, he pulled a coin from his jacket pocket and began moving it across his fingers. He entered the elevator when it opened and found himself staring at his feet as he waited to arrive at the lower level of the building, still moving the coin between his hands and fingers. He contemplated the day and how everything could have easily gone entirely wrong; he was lucky to still be functional, and blessed to still have Hank in his life, alive and well. A shudder ran itself up his spine as a mental image of the aftermath would have been if he hadn’t jumped In front of that bullet— if he hadn’t chosen to throw self-preservation out the window for that briefest of moments. The portrait his mind painted was grim and the android found himself exiting the elevator with scrunched eyebrows and tensed lips. He raised the hand that wasn’t busy with his coin and ran its fingers through his hair as he hip bumped the front door to the precinct open.

The outside air that greeted him was frigid, but the android welcomed the chill that it brought to his skin; it cleared his head and allowed him to take a moment to simply breathe and listen. Connor could hear the typical sounds you would expect In Detroit— cars passing by, footsteps ringing against the sidewalks, horns honking in the distance, and scattered conversations. Even this late at night, the streets were still fairly busy, but not too busy for a walk with comfortable personal space. He turned on his heels and headed in the direction of home, flicking the coin between his hands as he peered around at the various shop faces and apartments in the area. Connor liked going on walks, as he enjoyed watching the people around him as he traveled— people and their mannerisms had always fascinated him. Though today, he found himself comparing his own movements and behaviors to those of the humans around him. As he passed by a coffee shop, he peered inside to see a group of young men talking; one of them ran a hand through his hair just as Connor had done earlier and the android found himself smirking slightly. He then moved his gaze down the street at a woman walking her small dog, jogging alongside it as they went; Connor’s mind drifted to touch on Sumo, who was likely patiently awaiting his own walk at home. The android turned the coin across the knuckles of his left hand as he looked around at more shops and people; after a while, his eyes rested on a young couple sitting together on a bench and he slowed his pace for just a moment. They were sitting close, talking and laughing together, as the man put his arm around the woman’s shoulder. Connor thought back to all the times Hank had put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance; though he had been sure they had been gestures of friendship at the time, he now found himself wondering. Hank had always talked about his disgust with people choosing android partners over __real people__  before they had developed a friendship, though Connor pondered on whether this was still the case. He straightened up, grasping his coin firmly in a fist as a huge realization set in; was he in love with Hank?

The android had an uncomfortable feeling set in his chest and he dashed over to the nearest trash can; a large coughing fit ensued and Connor spewed up a large amount of blue flower petals, stained with a slight tinge of thirium, into the bin. He took a moment to breathe after he had stopped coughing and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. As he stood there, still leaning over the trash bin, he started to laugh to himself. The android was in complete disbelief that he had missed all the signs— reality had been staring him in the face, shouting at him since he’d returned from Jericho, but he was blind to it. He’d clearly been distracted by Hank throughout the entirety of the investigative process, yet had written each of the small quirks that had emerged off as a side effect of gaining more free will and individuality. The flowers growing in his chest were obviously the result of his recent infatuation with his partner— but what should he do about it?

A loud horn sounded behind him and the android straightened up, startled out of his wandering thoughts. He turned to face the direction the noise had come from and discovered Hank parallel parked behind him. The lieutenant was smirking, clearly pleased with himself; smile lines gathered at the edges of his eyes and his shoulders were moving as he laughed at his own prank. Connor ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh, now wracked with nerves over the exchange he would have with Hank over the entire situation; after he had collected himself, he moved to the passenger side of his partner’s vehicle and slid in with his usual grace, “you were supposed to call me.”

“I tried, but it went to voicemail,” the lieutenant was peering into the rear view mirror.

Connor pulled his phone from his pocket and checked it, “it would seem that I left it on silent,” he slipped the device back where he’d gotten it from.

“You didn’t make it very far,” Hank was still grinning.

The android fastened his seat belt, “No, I was enjoying the scenery.”

“Scenery?” the lieutenant looked around, his forehead elevated in slight confusion, “what scenery?”

“Some of us enjoy the lights and sights of the city, Hank,” Connor moved his head to look out the windshield, “I like to people watch.”

The lieutenant chuckled, “well, that’s not surprising,” he pulled the car back into traffic and headed in the direction of home, “you always did seem fascinated with humans, I don’t see why that would change.”

“I feel as though the motive behind my curiosity has shifted,” the android moved his gaze to the passenger window.

“How so?” Hank flipped his turn signal.

Connor stiffened; he wasn’t ready to dive into everything yet, “I… have been trying to figure everything out…” the android let the rest of his sentence trail off.

“It’s okay, I get it,” the lieutenant glanced over at the android and then back to the road, “not something you want to talk about.”

“Sorry,” Connor reached a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

Hank smiled, “don’t be.”

The rest of the ride to the lieutenant’s house was completed in silence as Connor peered out of the passenger window at the people they passed on the sidewalk and the snow that had begun to fall in light flakes. Only the sounds of the road, hum of the engine, and clicking of the car’s signals filled the air. When they arrived, Hank didn’t say a word— he simply motioned toward the house and heaved himself out of the car. The android stayed behind in the car for a moment before getting out himself; the lieutenant had already unlocked the door and entered the house as Connor approached the front door. When he got inside, Hank was knelt down, scratching Sumo around the neck, “I’m going to give him his walk tonight, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” the android wiped his feet on the rug at the entrance, “though, if you’re concerned for my safety, I believe I’ll be fine.”

“Nah,” Hank clipped the leash to the Saint Bernard’s collar, “I need the exercise.”

Connor nodded, moving further into the house, “I’ll start on dinner while you’re gone.”

The lieutenant peered back at his partner as he exited with the dog, “you don’t have to do that; I’ll grab something when I get back.”

With that, Hank closed the door behind him and Connor was left alone in the house. He stood for a moment, looking out the window after his partner, and then turned to head into the kitchen. The android planned to prepare something for Hank to eat, despite his statement not to worry about it; he moved to the refrigerator and opened it, retrieving the thawed chicken that he found inside. He decided he would make chicken stir fry, and moved to pull a pot and a frying pan from the lower cabinet. Connor shook his head at the lieutenant’s lack of a wok, placed the frying pan on the stove, turning the burner on medium, and moved to the sink to fill the pot with water. Once the pan had the correct amount filled, he moved the pot to the stove toward the back, turning the burner for it on high. Connor then snatched a cutting board from the adjacent cabinets, a knife from the block, and began preparing the chicken; once it was cut, he placed it in the now warmed pan and measured out rice to add to the pot. As he set to work in cutting vegetables, he heard the front door open once again, “welcome back.”

“Are you cooking?” the lieutenant peered over at Connor from the front door, “Damnit, Connor— I said not to worry about it.”

“I know,” he moved the pan as he stirred to flip the chicken, “I like to cook.”

Hank sighed, hanging Sumo’s leash up by the door and kicking his shoes off before walking over into the kitchen as well. He looked over at Connor, who was now searching through the refrigerator for soy sauce, “do what makes you happy, I guess.”

The android returned to the pan and poured some sauce, tossing in some seasoning as he stirred as well, “I take it you don’t like cooking?”

Shrugging, the lieutenant moved toward Sumo’s food bowl, “I’m not a fan,” he picked up the bowl and walked to the pantry, where he filled it with dog food from a bin at the bottom.

“What __do__  you like to do— for fun, I mean?” Connor added the vegetables to the pan.

“I uh…” Hank paused for a moment before moving to place the food bowl back on Sumo’s mat, “haven’t really done a lot for fun lately.”

The android looked over at his partner, who was now scratching at the back of his neck and peering over at a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the opposite counter. Connor frowned slightly as he turned back to his cooking, now feeling a bit awkward that he didn’t think that question through before posing it, and stumbled into another sentence, “I noticed that you had a lot of jazz music in your collection.”

Hank chuckled lightly, “going through my stuff now, huh?”

“I don’t sleep much,” he turned and smiled at his partner, hoping to ease the strangeness of the moment before.

The lieutenant was placing the whiskey bottle into the pantry, “yeah, I like to listen to it on sad days,” he scratched at his chin as he closed the door, “it seems to help brighten them up.”

Connor nodded, “I haven’t listened to music much,” he moved to get a plate down from the upper cabinets, “but I have enjoyed what I __have__  heard; it’s very interesting to me.”

“What was music like for you before you,” Hank hesitated a moment, but then pushed forward, using air quotes with his remaining words, “became deviant?”

The android smirked, preparing Hank’s plate, “background noise,” he turned and set the plate down on the table, “like how you can hear people moving around when you’re focused and working on something.”

“Huh,” the lieutenant looked at his partner for a moment before pulling out his chair, “not something I really thought about before,” he sat down in front of his meal and looked back up at Connor, “music is almost everywhere.”

Nodding, Connor turned and set to work at putting the remaining food away as the lieutenant’s lunch for the following day, “I notice it more now; I hear the words and the beat,” he shut the lid to the storage container he was filling, “sometimes I find myself pulling apart the different layers of a song.”

Hank took a bite of food and looked up at the ceiling as he was thinking, “I suppose I do that too,” he mixed up some of his rice with the vegetables a bit better, “focus on one instrument at a time.”

The android closed the refrigerator and began running water to clean the dishes, “I’d like to learn to play an instrument,” he added soap to the filling sink, “though I doubt I would be able to do little more than replicate what others have written and played before.”

“You never know,” the lieutenant shrugged, “you surprise me every day, Connor.”

Smiling, Connor moved to begin scrubbing at the tools he’d used to cook dinner, “I hope I never stop surprising you, Hank.”

The lieutenant stopped eating abruptly, gazing over at his partner awkwardly for a moment before clearing his throat and resuming his dinner. All that filled the air was the sounds of clanging dishes and sloshing water for a few minutes before the android spoke up again, “I’d very much like to do something…” he paused and searched for the right words, “entertaining with you.”

Hank scooped up the last of his rice, “like what?”

“I’m not sure,” Connor reached for the skillet to wash next, “I heard a few of the other officers speaking of a bowling night; perhaps we could take part in something like that?”

“You want to go bowling?” the lieutenant huffed in amusement, “I haven’t been bowling in years.”

“Bowling would be a bad idea then, I take it?” the android took Hank’s now empty plate and began work on washing it as well.

“No, no…” Hank scratched at the back of his neck, “I’m just going to be a bit rusty is all.”

“Is that a yes, then?” Connor peered over at his partner as he set the plate in the dish drainer.

“Yeah, sure,” the lieutenant shrugged, “why not?”

The android smiled, satisfied with his partner’s answer, and returned to cleaning the sink and countertop. Hank heaved himself to a stand, “anyway, I’m beat…” he pushed his chair back in and motioned a thumb down the hall, “I’m going to turn in.”

Connor was drying his hands as the lieutenant turned to head to his bedroom, dragging his feet just a bit as he moved. Sumo padded lazily behind Hank as he slowly made his way down the hallway. When he entered the room, the Saint Bernard plopped down outside the door and set his head down on his paws. He could hear Hank’s voice echo down the hallway just before the bedroom door closed behind him, “see you in the morning, Connor.”

 

 


End file.
